


Oscen | YMX x Fem! Reader

by crestedhearts (orphan_account)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23035789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/crestedhearts
Summary: In which [Name] [Surname] is rapidly promoted from keyblade apprentice to keyblade master after her own master disappears into the Abyss, and is forced to reconcile with an old mentor in order to find her.Love was never supposed to be in the equation.
Relationships: Xehanort (Kingdom Hearts)/Reader
Kudos: 18





	1. ONE: THE LOST

The box laid heavily in her lap, holding the weight of what seemed like a tonne of bricks within it. It was sealed shut in every way imagineable: closed with powerful sealing spells, locked with magic power that repelled anyone who wished to seek out its contents. But other than this unusual weight, it was an absolutely typical wooden box, with only a plain metal lock to fool the holder's eye. It was square without a scratch or missing chunk of wood in sight, and smelled of pine needles and damp moss一like nature, fresh as the day it had been cut and shaped and molded into the form it was in at the moment in time.

[Name] [Surname] sat silently with this box for some time. Her fingers worked away at the fine polish finish, nails digging deep and scoring marks into the flawless wood. Anxiety made her fidget with the metal lock; nervousness had her sliding the oily pads of her fingers across the corners of the unadorned box, leaving wet stains on the dark brown surface. She kept it in her lap because the stone bench was too rough for such a precious object and her legs were freezing from the harsh cold that swept through the waiting room just outside the council chambers一the magical heat that the box exuded kept her warm, if only for a few lovely moments.

A few moments, however lovely, that she would cherish before she had to face the council.

"You'll be fine, [Name]."

At her side, mouth pulled into a cruel twist, Arcadia's sister一Makaria一patted her on the shoulder in a mockery of the comfort she needed. Her palm was harsh against the bone and skin of her shoulder and shoulderblade. They could have been twins, in that moment, if it weren't for Makaria's dark green eyes staring at her instead of bright violet ones.

She, unlike [Name], arrived perfectly suited for the weather. And again, unlike her sister's hasty apprentice, she was ready for any barbs the council might throw at her, because she was Makaria, and there was no one who could withstand her silver tongue within this world or the next. Her necklace gleamed in the light of the sun shining through the windows, a yellow-green diamond in the shape of a heart.

"I'm not... I can't handle them like you can," [Name] puttered. Her grip on the box tightened. "I'm just an apprentice, not a Master like you or... Master Arcadia. They'll tear me up and eat me for dinner."

Makaria clicked her tongue. "I would change that mindset before it's your turn for statements, child. Those crochety old coots love to pick out weaknesses and drag them to the surface for everyone to see. If you let them make a fool out of you, Arcadia would be disappointed... or kill you on the spot."

[Name] averted her gaze. That was the worst thing she could have said to her. Everyone knew that she feared Arcadia more than was healthy for an apprentice and master一practically respected her out of fear alone. Her abilities and magic were second to none and if it weren't for her fear, coupled with the bone deep urge to please Arcadia in any shape or form, she would have denounced the keyblade on the spot and returned to her not-so-peaceful life in Yharnam; she had plenty of life threatening experiences there that didn't involve humans or Arcadia's malicious threats to gut her like a fish every time she failed to summon a zettaflare.

But there was nothing to miss about Yharnam. Nothing except perhaps for the fields of lumen flowers and the stench of old blood.

And yet her own nightmare was still continuing, unending, and had yet to reach its final conclusion.

All because of one stupid decision.

[Name] exhaled a mighty breath. The air before her fogged up immediately, wisps curling into the air and disappearing just as quickly.

"Let them. They can't possibly dig up all of my fears." Lest Arcadia haunt me from the Abyss. "And if they do, then... Well, I suppose it was fate."

"That defeatist attitude really doesn't suit you." Makaria brushed her hair aside as the doors to the council chambers opened. Standing at the entrance was an unfamiliar butler, dressed completely in black and wielding an interesting keyblade at his side. "Good luck, girl; I think you'll be needing it. I'll see you once all of this is over."

The ornate, heavy doors shut behind her with a shuddering bang.

"If this goes how I plan, hopefully I'll never see your two-faced soul in my lifetime ever again," [Name] huffed to herself. The box grew warm again and she wrapped her arms around it, taking in its warmth. "Maybe... I'll be able to... I don't know, see the universe or something."

What seemed like hours passed. She could hear the council debating angrily, but their words were hidden behind a shield so she couldn't make out what they were saying, only that Makaria was riling them up just as easily as they let her, and it was working.

The keyblade master seemed proud when she exited. Her face was flushed red and she seemed to sweat from every part of her body, but she was satisfied of what she had managed to accomplish, whatever that had been.

When she swept past [Name], she gave her a wink, and vanished down the corridor, where she was never seen again.

"[Name] [Surname], apprentice of Arcadia, heir to Æthervox?" The butler approached her with a quizzical eye. "You are here to make your statement about the whereabouts of Master Arcadia, are you not?"

"I-I am." [Name] clutched the box tighter.

This is it. This is where I can make it or break it.

"Very well," the butler said. He glanced at her box, but said nothing of it, and escorted her to the large double doors. "Please hold your tongue while the masters are speaking. Do not interrupt them while they discuss; Makaria's foolish method is not something they would care to have repeated."

"I won't," she assured in a tiny voice. Internally, she was panicking, cursing Makaria. What had been amusement while she listened in was quickly turning into rapid fire curse words. What did she do?!

"See that you don't," the butler replied in a sour voice. He motioned inside, where she could see a podium, and not much else. "Go inside. And leave the box, please."

[Name] put the box down carefully beside the door. As long as no one messed with it or moved it, it should be safe一but she was putting a lot of trust in chance, so she cast a small alarm spell on it just in case. The butler ignored her and held the door open still, waiting for her to enter.

Walking into the council chambers was like walking onto a different continent. It was absolutely sweltering within, the air warped with the immense heat that the heating spells produced. Compared to the blizzard outside, the heat was welcome, but [Name] could feel her feet sliding around in her oversized boots as sweat began to form between her toes.

It clung to her clothes, made the fabric stick to her skin. If she wasn't so worried about making a wrong impression on the council, she would have torn her outer layers off and collapsed on the marble floor like a lunatic. But she was more reserved than that and carefully peeled just her coat off, throwing it over her arm as she approached the podium.

Around the podium, forming a half circle, were the council members themselves. Sitting in immaculate chairs of velvet and gold, they chattered amongst themselves, looking as old and wrinkly as [Name] imagined. None of them sweated a drop, even underneath the heavy fur ensemble they wore as a unit, and it took quite some time before they noticed she was there.

"Ah," one announced,"the apprentice has arrived. It seems we may adjourn early after all, my fellow councilmen."

[Name] gripped the sides of the podium in a death grip. What was that supposed to mean?

"Let us get started then," another yawned. "I'm positively tired of all this nonsense."

They all were collectively too calm, despite being in a shouting match not even ten minutes before. Either they were excellent at making a good mask, or the argument had tired them all out.

"[Name] [Surname], correct?"

"Yes, councilman."

"It has come to my understanding that Keyblade Master Arcadia was neither a kind nor forgiving teacher. Various sources have informed me that she was harsh on you as she trained you, even foregoing the safety measures of the training fields in order to 'effectively teach' you. Is this true?"

"I..." [Name] avoided the ten sets of eyes boring holes into her. "It wasn't... anything I couldn't handle. She called it tough love."

"And on the day that she vanished, she left her keyblade behind for you to take. Is this also correct?"

"Y-yes, councilma一councilwoman."

"Did your master inform you of her future whereabouts?" One of them asked, eyes narrowed, holding some knowledge that she didn't.

"No, I wasn't... privy to that information."

"Your master," the head councilman drawled,"is in the dark lands. Without a keyblade and without a way out一she's practically dead already, if not now."

[Name]'s stomach dropped to her feet, along with her heart. What?

"So, might I give you my congratulations early, Keyblade Master [Name]? We have a lot of work for you to do."

Æthervox's handle appeared into her hand. It's sickly green and black blade glowed with an unearthly light; the individual teeth upon its tip, made for shredding and tearing, gleamed wickedly with sentience and malicious intent.

The council echoed,"Congratulations. May your heart be your guiding key, and may your mind pave the way for future generations."

But when she left the council chambers, Æthervox in one hand and the box curled under the other, all she could think was that she had failed.

She had failed一and now she was the council's perfect little henchman. She gripped Æthervox tighter; it pricked her palm painfully in response.

Gods, save us all.


	2. TWO: THE FORGOTTEN

The study was empty. All that remained was an old, dusty desk that sat abandoned against a wall, scored with fingernail gouges and indiscernible holes that could have been made by daggers. Some of the edges were black and not mahogany, suggesting that a fira spell had been cast near it, and soot rubbed off of her fingers every time she shoved it to the side to get to one of her Master's secret caches.

[Name] had been given a strict time limit on how long she would be able to remain in her Master's manor. Whereas all of the other keyblade apprentices and masters took up residence in Scala ad Caelum, Arcadia had preferred the solidarity of an unknown world so far off the map that it wasn't even a blip on the council's radar. Having an entire planet at your disposal to train, build, or do as you saw fit was beneficial to her training, her Master had said一but that was only because she had [Name] attempting large scale Ultima and Stopza spells before she could even summon a keyblade.

Æthervox was not the first keyblade she had ever wielded, but it would surely be the last she would ever summon. Her first blade had been one of an interesting一but boring一type, that being linked to nature. It was utterly useless when she needed it and Arcadia had her rely heavily on powerful, mana consuming spells as a result of her disappointment.

But Æthervox was... different.

She paused in pulling a mega potion out from the confines of the wall cache, turning to look at the keyblade that hovered by the door. It gave no hint that it even acknowledged that she was looking at it, the neon green metal shining in the afternoon light. The charm at its end was chipped, she noted, but made out the bizarre shape of a chess piece, of all things一a queen, if she remembered correctly.

Æthervox was one of very few keyblades that had the ability to become sentient. Years of studying had revealed to her that much about her keyblade. The others were No Name, a keyblade that had disappeared sometime before the first keyblade war; Ciardis, a light based keyblade wielded by the current Head Councilman; and Morga, Arcadia's first and weakest keyblade.

Her master had a talent for summoning sentient keyblades. She had watched her use several different ones in rapid succession, once, during her training. Over forty, she recalled, each one of various elements and forms with different weaknesses and triggers and boosts. How anyone could manage that many weapons at once was mind boggling to her.

Æthervox, however, was her prized possession. A keyblade who had took more lives than it had saved.

[Name] gently put the mega potion inside a box stuffed with tissue paper.

So why did she leave it for me?

She shook her head and closed the flaps of the box when she couldn't find anything else of value in the hidden spaces. It was pointless to think about theories when she only had a few more hours to pack everything up and pick up her new address from the council secretary. She only hoped it was somewhere nice and sunny and far from Scala ad Caelum.

"Alright, Æthervox," she spoke to the keyblade, hefting the box in her arms. It turned towards her, floating closer, but gave no magic pulse of acknowledgement. "You can go. I just need to pick up my armor before we leave."

Talking to a keyblade was as bizarre as she had thought it would be. [Name] stood awkwardly in front of her own weapon, eyeing it with some uncertainty until it vanished into a flurry of green flames and sparks.

If a keyblade could express irritation, that was definitely it.

"Right," she mumbled to herself. She set the box down with the others on a magically enhanced rug created to shrink objects down to a more agreeable size. "Now, to the armory."

[Name] had been to the armory once and only because she had to be fitted for her own set of armor. It was a rather plain outfit of green metal and pink orichalcum that matched her first keyblade. It wasn't anything as special as Master Arcadia's, which was a beautiful set of green and black armor that was made of a special ore not found anywhere in their dimension. How she got her hands on it was a mystery, but she had never seen a dent or scratch on it, so whatever it was, it did a good job of protecting her.

She turned a corner towards the door to the armory, but froze when she found Æthervox lingering in the hallway. There was something about the keyblade that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and dread curl in her gut like a snake. She'd never managed to put a name to it until now.

Fear.

It made no sense. Æthervox hadn't been malicious when Arcadia had wielded it; in fact, it was almost helpful, if a little bloodthirsty. This... whatever it was, was different, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

To her relief, the keyblade vanished once again, this time not reappearing even when she opened the door to the armory. Inside, the room was cool, and the furnace had been put out long ago. Several weapons, none of them of a keyblade variety, had been laid out on a stretch of silk. A letter laid on top of a delicate looking sword that snapped apart into two beautiful daggers of black metal. The Yharnam influences were there, she could see it in the style.

She put the blades down and picked up the letter. Her name, unusual for Arcadia to write down on anything, was written on it in her hand. A very feminine calligraphy for someone so brutish.

Inside, it read: 'Use them. Learn them. All of them. Keyblades are not a resource to be relied on so heavily.'

Her crutch exposed, [Name] tucked the letter into her pocket with a sour smile. Arcadia never liked that she relied so heavily on her keyblade and not her magic or other weapons. Keyblades couldn't run a man through if you were being assaulted in a dark alleyway.

She spent the better part of an hour tagging the weapons with her magic and putting them into an interdimensional storage space. It was the same way keyblades were utilized, but doing it manually was irritating and such a chore that she eventually found places on her person to shove her daggers and the pretty yharnam blades. In all, she had seventy three new weapons at her disposal, all of them made by Arcadia herself.

Years of work had been put into it, by the sheer number of them. And if that wasn't enough to convince her that Arcadia treasured her as a student, it was the set of armor that she found in place of her own.

Instead of her green and pink ostentatious ensemble, a dark green and black set of armor stood before her. Where Arcadia's was more plain and cut to hurt, she had crafted [Name]'s with symbolism and personal style in mind. Scrolling artwork of curling lines covered the green surface. The metal pieces of her arm guards and knees were sharp, pointed, and flared out into the shape of feathers. Even the helmet, with its black face guard, had almost owl-like feathers protruding from the sides of it, reminding her of a great horned owl. If that wasn't enough to imagine, on the back of the silky green cape attached to rather dangerous looking pauldrons, was the head of said owl, carefully stitched into it.

The smell of Arcadia's magic hit her like a slap in the face when she opened the glass case to tag the items to her magic. All magic had a smell and some were better than others; Arcadia's smelled like the air before a storm.

Once her armor was packed and ready to go, she turned to the empty case where Arcadia's own set once stood. Nothing remained there except for the stand that helped keep it upright.

With a sigh, [Name] returned to the pile of boxes she had set out on the rug. Æthervox didn't reappear the entire time she was readying a transport spell, nor did it appear while she was locking up the manor for what seemed like the last time.

Only when she returned to the council chambers did it appear again, this time in her hand一but not of its own will. Never of its will.

Her anger was palpable and charged the air as she read the name of her new destination: of her new home for the next ten years while she searched for her Master.

Scala ad Caelum.


	3. THREE: THE CRUEL

Anger was not a foreign emotion to [Name]. At times, she found herself angry at anyone and everything; the world, the people within it, even herself if she felt truly embroiled in her own rage. Arcadia never goaded those emotions to the surface during their training, no matter how many times [Name] struggled to dual wield two Ultima spells while simultaneously attempting to shove a Graviga into a dummy with her foot. She would set up deliberately complex training exams that required her to think一require her to use her brain instead of her heart.

And for all the years she had been with Master Arcadia, it had worked. The results may have been crude and unworthy of her skills as a keyblade apprentice, but her anger would have been guttered out into nothing by the time she finished. Arcadia would watch her like a hawk, eyes almost mocking, before she would nod and deem her acceptable to continue on with her training.

All of that一the training courses, the careful management of her anger, and the almost reverent treatment of mind over heart一would be unavailable to her for the rest of her life.

Crumbling the piece of parchment in her fist, [Name] fixed the poor teller with one of her most fearsome glares, and turned towards the double doors she had entered from. She debated smashing through them, she really did, but after several seconds of a shifty looking maid eyeing her with some disdain, she quickly got rid of that idea and opened a portal to the world nearest Scala ad Caelum: the Final World.

The Final World was a world that Arcadia had just barely introduced her to before she vanished. It was barren of any form of life: a desert in the truest sense, with towering rocky crags and caverns that stretched for miles. Her master had revealed to her the power to summon the labyrinth within the world, though she had no idea what she was supposed to do with that knowledge or how to utilize it properly.

If she was going to have to stay in Scala ad Caelum, she had some serious business to attend to first: make a truce with King Mickey.

No matter how angry she was at the mouse, or how sorely responsible he was for initiating the Nightmare Menses in Yharnam, she had to make some sort of peace with him lest her anger get the better of her. If she had a promise to follow, even the vaguest vow to herself, it would be much more difficult to get angry. Irritated perhaps, but not angry.

Arriving at the Final World, [Name] quickly donned her armor before stepping out of the portal. Dust and dirt bombarded her the moment her feet touched the ground, nearly shoving her backwards with its power. Almost immediately, any plans she had for contacting Mickey vanished when she detected the foul presence of a heartless; a powerful one, one that would pose a problem for her if she wanted to linger a little while longer.

A quick scan of the vicinity with a low level sensory spell showed that two other presences were on the world as well. Human, pulse nearly one-sixty and rising, with a blood pressure of almost one-eighty over two hundred. Enough to have a heart attack, if it rose anymore, but she couldn't tell if they were civilian lives or apprentices. As their heart rates started to soar, she noticed that the heartless was gaining on them, fast, and heading right in her direction.

The dust storm made a true mess of things. She had no way of clearing it; she didn't have an aptitude for earth magic, unlike Arcadia who was proficient in that aspect of skill, and the air was only half of the problem. If she got to higher ground, away from the dirt and dust, maybe...

"Alright, then," [Name] huffed to herself. She wouldn't resort to using Æthervox just yet. She was still too afraid of it, so she summoned a protectga spell to settle over the general area she was standing in, and took the dual blades from yharnam from her side. "Let's see what we have here."

She snapped the blade apart, producing daggers that she held in either hand. She cast a small Ultima spell over the metal to produce a slight explosive effect, eyeing the steadily approaching blips on the sensor spell. On second thought, she added a small invisibility spell to her armor when she felt the waves of power radiating from the heartless.

It was ugly and dark, coming from a place that was so insidious that she had a hard time keeping her lunch down. Thankfully, she had only eaten several crackers and drank some water while she was packing, so her stomach was mostly empty as she nearly dry heaved into her helmet.

[Name] could hear the two human presences yelling at each other as they drew closer.

"Yen Sid, I swear I'll kill you if you ever drag me into one of your knowledge escapades ever again! I bet my keyblade on it!"

Feminine. Young. Perhaps not even of apprentice age, or pushing it. Yet she had a keyblade? [Name] shifted forward, moving all of her weight to her toes. She was barely of Master age herself, but she had gotten her first keyblade at thirteen. This girl sounded extremely young to even have a keyblade, let alone venture off world.

"I didn't know that a heartless would be here! I'm sorry, Rosa! I promise!"

Male and most definitely of apprentice age. She'd bet her last few moogle coins on it. He had a peculiar magic signature that she could sense like some people could sense evil; it wasn't good or bad, but a delicate thread of neutrality that was difficult to maintain. [Name] teetered off somewhere into the gray area, while this person walked the fine line of light and darkness itself. Interesting.

And suddenly the dust storm erupted with a rumbling wave, parting in the middle and rushing towards the sky as two small figures darted across the expanse of desert like bats out of hell with an actual demon flying behind them at a high speed, so quick that fire sparked from its feet.

[Name] recognized the symbols decorating their pathetic armor almost instantly: the two circles overlapping on top of a third, larger one, could only mean they were apprentices of Mickey, or at least associates of his. There were several different leagues there that included the Queen, her friend, Daisy, and a mage called Donald that all used the same crest, so she wasn't certain if they were one or the other.

But she had to protect them, even if the petty side of her didn't want to, just to spite Mickey. Her vows as a Keyblade Master, new and fragile as they were, demanded it.

Even if it was only on a flimsy piece of paper.

"Here goes nothing," she shook her head to herself. She cast a Flare to catch the heartless' attention一and consequently the two humans fleeing for their lives, who almost immediately veered off into her protectga spell as soon as they spotted the glimmering shield in their periphery.

The heartless smashed against the shield with enough force to rattle the spell itself. The ground rumbled beneath her feet but the shield held steady, holding firm even as the heartless battered against it with everything it had.

As she approached the two apprentices, she watched as the male of the two touched her shield with some form of awe on his face.

"Such a powerful protect spell... I wonder who cast it!"

The girl was staring dead at her, eyes wide as she came to a stop just behind them and as close to the heartless as she dared. [Name] was not a terrifying person when it was just her, but with the armor, cape and daggers, she was the picture of lethality, the epitome of intimidation. No doubt as Arcadia intended.

The more closely [Name] looked, the more she noticed that the kids had been through literal hell. Scrapes and burns and gouges marred their skin or charred their clothing, attesting to the cheap make, and were covered in so much soot she had a hard time discerning their hair color.

Neither of them reached her shoulder, much less her chest, and she towered over them, casting her own shadow over theirs as the sun moved through the sky.

"What are two apprentices of the crown doing in a place like this?" Arcadia's firm manners and proper language took place of her usual crude mannered speech. It was the first thing she had beaten into her, usually with a wooden stick: never speak anything less than proper unless you want to earn yourself an early prison cell. So she didn't speak like she normally did, even if those rules were old and arbitrary.

"I... Yen Sid!" The girl, Rosa she remembered, squeaked. She jerked at her friend's robe with enough force to pull him backwards.

"Huh?" Jarred from his examination of her shield, he turned around, mouth open to speak, but immediately clammed up when he noticed [Name] standing behind him. "Oh... Uh... Mickey didn't send you, did he?"

At least he had the decency to be ashamed. The girl looked downright frightened of her and didn't open her mouth.

"No," [Name] said, amusement in her tone. She found it somewhat funny and ironic that she ended up with two of Mickey's precious apprentices in her grasp when she was just debating contacting him. Now she had a non-embarassing reason to do it now. "But I think you need some help dealing with that heartless you just brought to me."

The girl relaxed immediately once she heard her tone. It wasn't a stern consolation like she was expecting. "Please, help us...?"

"I am Keyblade Master [Name]," [Name] provided, flicking her fingers over the hilt of her dagger. It crackled with energy and the heartless seemed attracted to it, putting more force into its attacks. "We'll have plenty of time for introductions later. For now, I'm going to shrink this protect spell and alter it to follow you. I want you to run towards that cave over there, hide, and don't come out until I release the spell. Are we clear?"

The two of them could only nod.

"Good." The shield shrunk and as soon as the shield stopped enveloping [Name], the heartless attacked. "Now go!"

The heartless was large when it was in your face, swinging a red and yellow blade at your face. She had thought it had human proportions, but as she ducked underneath the swing and shoved her dagger into its side, she became very aware of the fact that it was over nine feet tall and steadily growing, siphoning off of the darkness in the ground.

[Name] remembered what Arcadia had called it. Dark Inferno一a remnant of some long ago keyblade wielder, twisted into a mockery of a heartless. She didn't remember who nor did she care to. Defeating it was her first priority.

She leapt backwards when dark fire erupted from the ground, nearly slamming into her visor. The heat made her swelter in her armor, but Arcadia had invested in a cooling spell, and chills swept over her body as the heat was replaced with a brisk cold. She had to force herself into an awkward backflip, using one hand to push herself into the air and the other to catch her dagger out of the sky. She landed harshly on her feet but the Dark Inferno was rushing her, nearly to her.

"Mother f一!" [Name] grunted when the blade slammed into her side. Hard. The metal never buckled underneath the pressure, but her breath temporarily left her and she was left winded. She brought her leg up and in one swift kick, launched the heartless away from her. It rolled and skittered to a stop, getting right back up and flying towards her again.

Ditching the daggers, she summoned one of her most trusty staves: Jötnar. It was an ice weapon, granted, and would do well against a fire and dark based opponent like this one. If she could manage to keep it at enough of a distance to charge up a Stopza, the battle would be a lot less difficult for her in the long run.

"You just don't let up, do you?"

Panting, [Name] swung the stave upwards, catching the heartless in the jaw and sending it flying sideways. She had put more power into that than she realized and her fingers tingled unpleasantly.

The Dark Inferno was awful on its feet, it seemed. She was knocking it around like a rag doll and while she wasn't doing a whole lot of damage, it was clear that it didn't do well when it was off of the ground or without the odd skates on its feet.

One good Stopza, followed by dual Ultimas would do it in. As a finisher, if that didn't work, a Blizzaza.

Her plan in mind, she stepped forward. The Stopza made her fingers numb, but when the Dark Inferno brought its blade down to clash with her stave and the wood buckled and snapped clean in two, she was ready. She hit the heartless with all the force she could muster, loding the Stopza so deep in its skull that she felt the Abyss touch her for a few seconds. But that was all.

Dark Inferno froze in its place. The power of her Stopza radiated throughout the desert, shaking the ground and freezing the dust storm around them.

[Name] took a long breath, cringing when her lung seized up in pain. Perhaps there was more damage than just being winded. She'd have to check later.

With two Ultima spells in her fists, [Name] seized ahold of the Dark Inferno's heart shaped hole in its chest, as if prying it open. The Ultima burned through the darkness of its body, the Stopza preventing it from moving.

But its eyes... They stared at her with hellfire, yellow and concentrated, vicious.

Even when the spells had been cast and the sky lit up with blue light, and the dust storm fizzled out into nothing but air, those eyes would haunt her.

For the rest of her nights and days, for as long as she lived, she would never forget those eyes.

Never.


	4. FOUR: THE TWO APPRENTICES

[Name]'s first impressions of the apprentices were that they were, for lack of a proper term, unusual. They did not hold the same proprietary values that Arcadia did, nor did they seem to hold the gentle politeness of Mickey, Minnie, or Daisy. In fact, they were crude, rude, and downright ungrateful, though she did note that neither of them had not neglected to thank her for saving them一or healing them.

Not only that, they were poorly taught as well. Their spells lacked the refinement and concentration required to form naturally and utilize their mana to its fullest potential; not even their mana could make a difference, rough and unpolished as it was, and it was running on instinct alone. It was as if someone had given them a crash course in magic and keyblades and thrown them out to take on the universe; in the back of her mind she knew that they had more than likely ran off before their teachings were finished, but nonetheless, they were awfully unprepared except for a Hi-Potion that one of them had managed to bring.

[Name] had managed to produce kindling for a fire while the apprentices recovered from their wounds. They slept peacefully next to each other, as close to the fire as she would let them without burning to ashes, and their wounds mended under her watchful eye and carefully managed Curaga. The wounds that the Dark Inferno had inflicted upon them were severe enough that they needed to heal naturally. If they kept using cures and curagas, their bodies would forget how to heal, and they would die on the battlefield before they ever saw the light of day.

When the girl, Rosa, began to rouse, [Name] withdrew her armored hand and let the spell fade. She sat up with a tiny yawn, wincing at the burns she still had marring the skin of her back, and nearly had a stroke when she noticed their savior. In the darkness with only a fire for light, the armor looked eerily like the shape of a heartless, and her heart froze for a few moments until [Name] moved to the other side of the fire, away from them, and sat on the craggy ground with a metallic thump.

"How do you feel?" She wielded no keyblade. Rosa couldn't even pick out the hand she wielded it with. All keyblade wielders had a sort of tell, but this one didn't, and she didn't know what that meant. "Better, I hope."

"Yes... Thank you." Rosa rubbed her arms. The skin stung where she touched the burns. "For healing us. Again."

[Name] dropped a log onto the fire abruptly. Sparks showered into the sky and Rosa jumped backwards, almost scared that the Dark Inferno would leap out at her and plunge a sword through her chest. If Keyblade Master [Name] noticed it, she didn't say anything, and continued to poke and prod at the fire.

"It's my duty," she replied, though she sounded very put off by that fact. "You should go back to sleep. Your friend won't wake until dawn."

"How do you know?"

"I put him under a sleep spell." [Name] tilted her head sideways, almost like a curious dog. "Does he always thrash and scream when he sleeps, or is this a new occurence?"

"I一no, he doesn't. At least, I don't think so." Rosa frowned. He was most likely having nightmares like she was before she woke. "The whole heartless thing probably scared him."

"I see."

She returned to tending the fire and Rosa fell silent. While the keyblade master was occupied, the apprentice took the time to examine their savior more thoroughly. She was not too tall and not too short, but with enough height and muscle to be especially intimidating to anyone who crossed paths with her. She held her body with the looseness and elegance of a predator, feigning relaxation when in reality she was on the hunt, waiting for her next victim. Rosa knew it well. Mickey's newest apprentice, Xehanort, acted like that, even if he wasn't aware of it. He terrified her enough to avoid him altogether, despite Eraqus reassuring her that he was harmless. Mostly.

This woman could probably take Xehanort on and leave him with a mouthful of dirt and a wounded ego, Rosa mused to herself.

Before she could entertain that notion more, [Name]'s head jerked to the side. She was looking, or listening, at or to something that she couldn't see or hear.

"Stay here." A protectga erupted from the ground, shielding Rosa and Yen Sid. Rosa wasn't even sure how she had enough mana left to do it after the devastation she witnessed hours ago. "Don't move, be as quiet as you can and don't let the fire go out."

Rosa could only nod, fear keeping her silent. What was out there? Was it worse than the Dark Inferno? Could it be worse?

[Name] turned forward and vanished into the darkness. Rosa only saw it for the briefest of seconds, but she saw it. The flash of a keyblade and the shining metal of a blade that looked far too sharp to be normal.

It was dawn before she returned to them. Yen Sid had already awoke and was gazing around at their protective bubble in awe, once again, while munching on an energy bar that Rosa had saved for them to share. [Name] didn't seem like the kind of person who would give them food without them earning it first.

When she appeared back at their measly little camp, it was because she appeared, quite literally, right in front of them out of thin air. Neither of them had heard her approach, nor had they sensed any invisibility spells. Yen Sid had jumped back in a fright, eyes wide with fear, and Rosa herself had summoned her keyblade forth and swung it forward out of instinct.

[Name] caught it in her fist like it was nothing, crushing down on it until the weapon erupted into a flurry of white sparks and it was gone from her hands. Just like that, she had gotten rid of Rosa's keyblade, and the poor girl didn't know what to think about it.

"Don't give me that wounded, puppy look," she said in a tone that denoted disdain. If the apprentices could see her face, there would be a scowl on it. "You'll get it back."

She sounded tired, exhausted. If she had been fighting all night, like Rosa believed, then she was probably tired enough to sleep. Somehow, she still had no visible signs of damage, and yet she hadn't sensed any major spells going off while she tried to nap inbetween shifts.

Rosa dropped her hand. "Are you going to help us get back home?"

[Name] turned her back to her, stomping out the remains of the fire and shoving dirt over it with the heels of her feet. "Yes. I just have something important to do before we go."

Yen Sid was suspiciously silent throughout it all. Normally he was a blabbermouth, but as soon as their savior was out of range while opening up what looked like a contact sphere, he tugged Rosa close and whispered in her ear.

"I don't like this. This person is dangerous. Their power levels are far above King Mickey's. How did they even get here, right when we needed them?"

"Fate?" Rosa suggested weakly.

"I think we need to go."

[Name] listened to the murmured conversation behind her as she waited for the sphere to connect. It always took forever for Mickey to answer, let alone make a good connection, so when the loading screen stopped and the mouse himself appeared on the screen, [Name] couldn't help but snort.

"I seem to have come across some stray mice of yours," she said. "I'm sure you want them back. They've caused me quite an inconvenience."

Mickey, if he could, went pale. "...[Name]?"

"Right. But not quite. It's 'Keyblade Master [Name]' now."

"I... I see. And... Arcadia?"

"None of your concern." [Name]'s smugness withered and burned at the mention of her former master. "We have a problem to settle, you and I, and I intend to do it properly."

The conversation behind her had stopped.

"What do you一?"

"Expect me in a few seconds," she replied and her tone was absolutely saccharine.

Shutting the sphere, she whirled around, seized the apprentice's arms and before they could blink, stood in front of a desk where two people and a mouse sat, staring confusedly at a contact sphere.

[Name] grinned behind her helm.

"Hello, Mickey."


	5. FIVE: THE HUMBLE

Arcadia had the awful tendency to beat the living daylights out of her opponents when she thought they weren't giving her the respect she deserved in battle. This was true for anyone and everyone that had been on the recieving end of her blade一friend or foe一and [Name] had been relentlessly pummeled into the burnt, charred remains of flowers that littered the ground several, several times until she was certain that she couldn't quite tell if her front teeth were still intact or not.

Physical endurance was one of her worst lessons. What [Name] had in excess of magic power was sorely wasted in comparison to her body, which could barely take the brunt hit of a fist, much less the sharp end of a decidedly lethal blade. Her kneecaps had almost been shattered beyond recognition when Arcadia swung a Claymore down on her head out of nowhere, giving her little time to react and block. Her legs had given out beneath her and her knees hit the ground with an ominous crunch that had both of them pausing to look down at the offending noise.

Then [Name] had let out a gut wrenching wail that had Arcadia jolting backwards, dropping the claymore and allowing it to land right in the pocket of her shoulder joint and socket. There was a crack there, too, and more pain rose to the surface.

Needless to say, Arcadia had never acted like that before一had never reacted like that, to say the least. Where [Name] had been on the recieving end of some pretty painful broken bones by her hands, those were always met with a sharp quip of,"suck it up", and a healing spell that usually got the job done in seconds.

This was one such occurence of Arcadia's odd behavior leading up to her disappearance or, as the Council called it, willful abandonment of her duties.

One of the more immediate ones that [Name] could recall was one morning spent in a more archaic world called Corona. It was not technologically advanced in the least and they spent more of their time figuring out how to wash their clothing and use the facilities than actually tracking down any heartless.

[Name] had been at the stream tending to her raw and aching feet (her hiking boots had not been kind to her). The calluses and raw spots that had begun to form were soothed in the cool water. Even her fingers were a little red, sore from pushing past branches and thorn studded brush to get to their destination. She had ripped off a toenail as well when it began to turn purple and separate from her nailbed when Arcadia stepped up behind her.

Thus far, neither of them had mentioned the prospect of food, much less the idea of it. Seventeen hours without something to eat was nothing new to the apprentice and master, but on occasion, they would find a rabbit or deer in worlds like this and butcher it for meat and fur. [Name] still had several furs from those excursions on her bedroll, keeping her warm in winter.

So when Arcadia plopped down beside her, just barely touching her elbow, with a plate of almost edible looking pastries in her hand, [Name] had to pause.

"Where did you get those?" she inquired, letting her hands drop from her feet. "I didn't see anything in the pantry一"

Arcadia looked extremely, profusely uncomfortable. "That's because I made them. Here."

They were only a little burnt around the edges. [Name] picked it off and took a slow, hesitant bite under Arcadia's watchful eye. She had no idea that her master could bake. Most of her attempts at it had been disastrous. But when she bit into the sweet, a little put off by the faint dusting of flour that lingered, she was delightfully surprised that it was actually good.

"Ooh," she said, taking another bite,"this is good! What is this, lemon?"

"Lemon and ginger," Arcadia provided quietly, softly. "I like neither."

[Name] halted just before shoving the entire half of pastry into her mouth. The implications of that statement were vast. She could read into every single one of them... or she could ignore it and act like she wasn't as confused as a dementia riddled old coot.

"No? I do. I think they're delicious."

And that was the end of it. Arcadia's brief moment of vulnerability was gone and replaced again by her austere personality; she didn't question why the sweets felt like a giant sword lingering over her head, waiting to drop.

Looking back on it, Arcadia had probably wanted to tell her something一something important or as equally tragic. She had many chances to do it then. There were many times she would have been able to. Corona's solitude was perfect for that. But she never did.

She backed out every single time, just on the verge of revealing what plagued her. Each time, she would shake her head, mumble something, get up and leave without another word.

But as [Name] released the two apprentices from her grip, watching as they ran to Mickey and threw themselves into his tiny arms, she had to wonder...

Had she been trying to say goodbye?


	6. SIX: THE SECOND APPRENTICE

The keyblade wielder standing before them was not anyone that Xehanort recognized, and Mickey had been kind enough to point out the ones he knew during the council summits that they were regularly forced to attend. The suit of armor was not familiar and, not only that, the material was foreign as well--he had not seen the likes of it before in his eighteen years of living.

"Mickey," the keyblade master spoke. "I see you've done well for yourself."

Xehanort glanced over at his master, then at Eraqus; he seemed to have the same idea as he did, the both of them gauging their Master's reaction to the peculiar circumstance he had found himself in.

"I have," Mickey replied. His normally jovial tone was subdued, guarded. "And you seem to have done the same."

The keyblade master flexed her fingers. The armor clinked as the slats of metal connected. "Not quite. But that's for another time."

When she tossed a roll of parchment onto the desk, Mickey flinched backwards hard enough that he rattled his desk. 

Rosa and Yen Sid took a few careful steps back to where Eraqus stood, eyeing their master with the same curiosity as the other two. Mickey was never the flinching type, and if he was, there was usually a good reason for it--however, their rescuer didn't seem bothered by it in the least.

"An order from the council," she said, her voice as acrid and sour as a lemon,"one that I cannot refuse."

Carefully, Mickey picked up the scroll and unraveled the red tie keeping it together. It was written in the hand of the head councilman, elegant and flourished, in red ink.

"I, Councilman Thethis, hereby order [Name] [Surname] to take residence within the home of King Mickey post-haste, for as long as the duration of her mission requires."

There was no mention of the mission. Xehanort took a glance at the keyblade master again and was surprised to see that she had removed her helm. [Color] locks framed an otherwise plain face, but that face was furrowed and scrunched in displeasure.

"It won't take long," she said. "I'll be out of your hair in a few weeks."

Without looking at any of them again, she swept out of the room, her cloak dragging on the ground behind her. The owl embroidered on the back stared into his soul, angry and hard, talons outstretched and keen to rip and shred.

When the double doors shut behind her with an audible slam, Rosa turned to Mickey with a guilty frown on her face.

"I'm sorry for sneaking out, but that woman... She saved us. Who is she?"

Mickey seemed far too preoccupied with their new guest's presence to issue out a punishment. He didn't even seem angry; in fact, he looked almost nauseous.

"I think that's a story for another time," he said. He toddled from his chair and retreated to the balcony, leaving the four apprentices to their own devices.

"Talk about scary," Eraqus blurted out. "Did you guys see that armor?"

"Not as scary as when she was flinging around Ultima spells like they were nothing," Rosa shivered in agreement. Yen Sid said nothing in reply to that. "She even took down a Dark Inferno that was chasing us in the blink of an eye."

"Ultima spells?" Xehanort questioned. Not even he could manage more than one at a time--not even within a few hours, either, and his mana was higher than all of theirs. "Are you sure it wasn't a gravity spell?" They did have a similair appearance most of the time.

"It was an Ultima spell," Yen Sid confirmed quietly. Whatever he had seen had left him shaken. "They shook the cliffsides with their power. And the craters she left behind..."

Eraqus and Xehanort exchanged glances.

"Do you think we could get her to teach us?"

"Don't push it."

♚

Xehanort woke up the next morning to a thunderous earthquake rattling the castle. His various trinkets shook off of the table and hit the floor, rolling across the tile like balls. He shot to his feet and bolted out of the balcony doors, peering down at the battle arena and holding onto the balustrades for dear life.

Below, surrounded by magically enhanced puppets, stood the keyblade master--[Name], he recalled--and she was furiously throwing several Thundaza spells at her opponents. They scorched black trails into the red dirt, tearing through the dummies and fizzling out into the air. He had no doubt she had just cast an Ultima, considering the giant hole that had not been there previously, and it was powerful enough to shake the castle foundations.

Rolling his eyes, Xehanort went back inside and took refuge underneath his blankets.

It was too early for such nonsense.


End file.
